


me myself and why

by ErinNovelist



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romance, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21925000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinNovelist/pseuds/ErinNovelist
Summary: Magnus. Boyfriend.Alec tosses the word around a few times, mouthing it in the silence of his office, already way too comfortable with the way it feels on his tongue. Magus—as his boyfriend—is something he dares not think about because then it would seem too real, and he might do something stupid like hope.(The takeaway is this: it’s never going to happen.)
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 12
Kudos: 172
Collections: Favorite Malec Stories, The Malec Secret Santa - Edition 2019





	me myself and why

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QueenyClairey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenyClairey/gifts).



> For the lovely QueenyClairey for the Malec Secret Santa 2019. 
> 
> I loved your "sharing a bed" prompt and kind of ran with it. I really hope you enjoy this, otherwise I'm totally open to writing you something else!
> 
> Hope you have a lovely holiday season and great rest of the year!
> 
> <3

Alec is always so surprised by the Downworld’s ability to _gossip_.

He first hears the rumors that float around on a Thursday night at the Hunter’s Moon, where he meets Magnus for drinks.

It starts with a few beers after a long day in a Cabinet meeting because being the Head of the New York Institute truly is taxing, especially after the downfall of Valentine and the Circle as Alec tries to put the shambles of the New York Shadowhunter regime back together piece by piece, and the Downworld leaders try to contain their frenzied factions as well. Magnus suggested drinks to unwind and loosen up, where Alec can be drunk and happy with and slowly open up to the thought that he might _actually_ have a life outside the Mission.

“So how long have you and Magnus been together?” Maia asks quietly one evening as she refills his glass, beer sloshing over the edges as she jerks her head towards the warlock who is setting up the next round of pool.

“Huh?” Alec quirks a brow high in surprise, bewilderment etched across his face. He throws a glance over his shoulder, catches a glimpse of Magnus—warm charcoal-rimmed eyes, coifed hair, and wine-stained smile—and turns back to Maia with burning cheeks, already shaking his head. “Oh, we’re not together.”

It’s her turn to stare at him in confusion. “Are you sure?”

He presses his lips into a thin line. “Trust me, I think I’d know.”

“I just saw you guys leaving together last time.” She pockets the cash he slides her for the drink, shrugging helplessly. “Heard Magnus mention you were going back to his place.”

Alec knows _exactly_ what she’s thinking, and that little hopeful heart of his pangs for the desperate wish that it was true.

It’s been eight months since he’s been acquainted with the enigmatic Magnus Bane, their first meeting after a spitfire named Clary Fray crashed into his life and tossed the entire Shadow World into chaos, leading to the downfall of Valentine and the Circle and appointing Alec the new Head of the New York Institute. Alec has found himself wanting—more than anything—for there to be _something_ between him and Magnus Bane.

It’s the product of long nights spent cleaning up his sibling’s messes that the warlock helps solve, healing sessions after close calls in battle, meetings at the Institute when the warlock made weekly trips to reinforce the wards with the Circle attacking constantly. It’s quiet talks until early morning after a drink or two, huddled together on Magnus’s couch, about Alec’s dreams to change the world as Magnus opens his eyes to the Downworld and all its wonder.

(It starts with a brief flirtation that flared bright when they first met but was snuffed out quickly at Alec’s whirlwind engagement to Lydia—something that Alec rekindled over time, never let fully burn out, even though Magnus showed no signs of fueling it again.)

Alec sighs and shakes his head. “There’s nothing between us,” he tells Maia as he takes a sip of his beer, wondering if it’s possible to drown himself in it just to never have this conversation again.

Maia hums, almost like she doesn’t believe him, but he decides to ignore it. He has more important things to worry about, such as not giving the a four-hundred-year-old warlock a reason to think he can’t hold his own in pool.

The takeaway is this: nothing is going on, but that hasn’t stopped Alec from _wanting._

*

The first night it happens, he’s drunk and Magnus’s apartment is closer.

“Come on, Alexander, just a few more steps,” Magnus says breathlessly, too choked with laughter to make sense. Alec himself is collapsing against him, too happy and in love to care (not that he’d ever admit that to his friend).

“That’s what you said.. a block back that _way_.” He gestures helplessly over his shoulder, but he’s not sure he’s pointing in the right direction. “Can’t you just….” This time he flicks his hands into a lazy circle, signaling for those portals the warlock is so fond of, but it comes out as him flipping the bird to a dumpster.

(Perhaps it’s not his brightest moment. Why _oh why_ does Magnus have to witness it?)

By the time they make it into Magnus’s apartment, which may have involved magic but at this point Alec isn’t too sure, all he wants is the comfort of his friend. They stumble into Magnus’s bedroom, collapsing on his bed, and Alec doesn’t know what he’s doing when he snuggles close to the warlock and drops his head on his shoulder.

“Wouldn’t you feel better in your own bed?” Magnus asks him, something softer than the tone he’s been using all night. “You know there’s a guest room upstairs.”

Alec shrugs helplessly, too lost in the scent of sandalwood to concentrate on much else. In the dim light of the tableside lamp, Magnus looks softer, silhouetted by the moonlight peeking through the glass of the bedroom window. He wraps an arm around the back of Alec’s shoulders, fingers burying themselves deep in his dark hair, drawing shapes into his scalp. The movement is slow and relaxing, turning every part of him loose and languid against Magnus.

“I’m fine where I am,” he says with a sigh and settles. He can’t remember the last time he was this comfortable.

“Yeah? You’re sure you’re okay?” Magnus’s voice has a depth to it, like there’s an unspoken story in the spaces between. Alec wants to try to place it, urge Magnus to open up and tell it, but alcohol doesn’t make these things any easier. Just makes them harder to get over once you realize what you don’t have.

“Hmmm,” Alec mumbles into the skin of his neck, chin cushioned by the warlock’s knit sweater, and his body just seems to _sink_. “As long as you’re here, I’m always okay.”

Magnus goes still next to him, and the rest of Alec’s thoughts turn indiscernible as the world turns quiet.

Sleep is easy to find that night with Magnus.

The takeaway is this: sometimes Alec wonders if Magnus wants too.

*

Shadowhunters gossip too.

It’s Jace who first comes into Alec’s office the next week, brow quirked high as he levels his brother with a stern expression. “What’s this I hear about you getting yourself a boyfriend?”

Alec peers up at him over the rim of his coffee cup, which has two more shots of expresso than he needs, but it’s the only way he can put up with his Institute on a good day. “News to me.” Honestly, he’d love to know where Jace is hearing this because it’s certainly proving to be more entertaining than the stock reports he has to approve.

“You and Magnus?” Jace asks. “You’re not dating?”

Alec stares at him, somewhere between amused and exhausted. “Last I checked, no.”

Jace ponders his response for a second, eyes blank and shuttered. Even through their parabatai bond, he can’t seem to get a sense on any emotion the blonde is throwing around. “Okay,” Jace finally murmurs. “I’ll check back in next week.”

He disappears as quickly as he came, and Alec is left with more questions than answers.

 _I heard you got yourself a boyfriend_ , Jace had said.

 _You and Magnus_ , Jace had assumed.

 _Magnus. Boyfriend_. Alec tosses the word around a few times, mouthing it in the silence of his office, already way too comfortable with the way it feels on his tongue. Magus—as his boyfriend—is something he dares not think about because then it would seem too real, and he might do something stupid like hope.

The takeaway is this: it’s never going to happen.

*

The sad thing is that Alec is more acquainted with Magnus’s bedroom than the rest of his apartment.

The first time was when they passed out drunk—but it wasn’t the last time that same scenario played out. The guest room upstairs, which Magnus makes a point to offer every Thursday Alec spends the night, grows cold and distant until finally the warlock stops asking and just assumes.

Eventually things escalate, where they’ll share the bed when Alec is over for a Cabinet meeting and too tired to head back to his bed at the Institute. Perhaps sit’s a dinner party where he stays after to help clean up, recovering from an injury Magnus inevitably had to heal, or helping Magnus after a magic depletion episode.

He’s all-to-familiar with the golden satin sheets, the ones that gleam like sunlight in the early morning, that match perfectly with Magnus’s bronze skin and fiery eyes. (Alec can’t help but picture Magnus stretched out across them on a morning after, all soft skin and worn edges, so perfect and happy. The thought makes Alec’s heart clench because it’s never going to something he’ll see.)

“I should start charging you rent, Alexander,” Magnus tells him one morning after Alec wakes up, all sleepy eyes and pillow imprints on cheeks. He’s ensconced in the doorway that leads to the living room of the apartment, coffee mugs clenched tight in both hands.

“Sorry. I can stop if you want me too,” Alec mumbles, already reaching for the coffee with a soft _thank you_ under his breath. The sight makes Magnus erupt in a blinding smile, and Alec feels like it means more than anything he could place on it. “Or at least cover breakfast costs.”

“If I didn’t want you to stay, I wouldn’t let you.” Magnus sits down next to him on the bed, twisting his fingers with a spark of blue, and then a plate of waffles appears before them. “You’re always welcome here.”

“Thank you,” Alec tells him, but it’s not for the bed or the breakfast.

It’s for everything else that he can never say.

The takeaway is this: sometimes, if he closes his eyes, it’s like they actually _are_.

*

“Are you using protection?” Izzy’s voice sounds in his ear during patrol one night. “You and Magnus?”

“Excuse me?” he asks because he doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about and… are they really having this conversation while _demon hunting_?!

“I just want to make sure you’re being safe, big brother.” Her eyes flash wildly in the moonlight, whip cracking through the air in an arc of blue and white, a demon’s scream echoing through the alley. Alec might’ve spared a moment to be impressed if he wasn’t frustrated and flustered, too busy trying to remember how to notch an arrow to respond.

“There’s _nothing_ going on between me and Magnus,” he snaps as he draws back and shoots, _fucking bullseye_. “I don’t know why everyone seems to think there is.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re sleeping together.” She’s seen him stumble into the Institute early some mornings, still bleary-eyed from spending the night at Magnus’s. There’s no use denying it.

“Not…” He sighs, reaching back for another arrow from his quiver. “Not in the _strictest_ sense.”

“But you _are_ sleeping together?” Izzy slips under the last demon, tripping it up in time for Alec’s arrow to find its target. Both sink to the ground, trying to catch their breath after battle, breathing heavy and covered in ichor.

“Not in the way you mean,” Alec grumbles, suddenly feeling the weight of their night and conversation on his shoulders. Izzy’s smile turns skeptical, and he waves her thoughts away with a defensive groan. “I mean it, there’s no sex. Just sleeping.”

Izzy laughs too loudly for it to be a good thing. “Okay, big brother. Whatever you say.”

Stumbling onto her feet, Izzy holds out a hand to help pull him up so they can report back to the Institute, the night still young with everything they have to do. They don’t say anything more on the subject, but Alec has the sinking feeling that she doesn’t believe him.

The takeaway is this: no one ever seems too.

*

“Fancy seeing you here,” Alec says in surprise as Magnus stumbles into his office at the Institute one afternoon, a smile already stretching across his face. However, when he catches sight of the dark shadows under the warlock’s eyes, the way his hands tremble, and the thin line of his lips, he knows that it’s not just for a social visit.

“You okay?” he asks instead, pushing himself out of the chair and reaching towards him, desperate to help in whatever way his friend needs.

“New wards took a little more strength than I thought,” Magnus mumbles into the space between them, hands grasping Alec’s elbows to steady himself. It’s apparent that he wants nothing more than to sink down and fall asleep, which is a classic symptom of magic depletion, but this is the first time Alec has seen it outside of the safety of the warlock’s apartment.

It’s definitely a cause for concern. “I’ve never seen you this wiped before.” He digs his fingers into the fabric of Magnus’s shirt, fighting the need to suddenly embrace him. “Are you getting enough sleep? Is your magic okay? Are you—"

“There were a few clients this morning too that I had to take care of.” Magnus waves his hand in front of his face, like he hasn’t been overworking himself to the point he can barely stand. “As Head of the Institute, I’m sure you know what urgency and demand entails. Can’t let matters like those slide.”

“Yeah, but—” At the expression on Magnus’s face, Alec quiets.

“I appreciate your concern, Alexander, truly I do.” Magnus huffs out something soft that sounds like a laugh, and it makes _something_ inside Alec shudder in surprise. He loves that sound from him. “But I’m fine—really. I just need to lay down for a few hours, and I’ll be right as rain.”

Alec looks over Magnus’s head at the couch nestled in the corner of his office and knows that was the warlock’s final destination. “I could use a break too now, actually.” Magnus makes a quiet noise—either of disbelief or agreement, Alec isn’t sure—and tugs them in the direction of the sofa.

Falling together onto the couch, Magnus arranges himself in a tangle of limbs, shifting and burying, until he’s pressed against Alec, close enough to breathe him in. It just makes Alec’s whole body shiver at each touch, the warmth, the feeling of Magnus’s pulse thundering against him. They’ve been close before, but it’s never felt like this.

“I worry about you,” Alec tells him, and Magnus only hums in response.

The warlock wastes no time in falling asleep, leaving Alec with his swarm of thoughts and emotions. His frantic heart can’t even _try_ to keep up. He swallows down everything he wants to tell Magnus and tries to get comfortable.

It’s going to be a long afternoon.

The takeaway is this: _I love you_ is what he wants to say.

*

“I’m so happy for you two,” Catarina tells him one evening during a dinner party that Magnus is throwing, just as the warlock slips away from their group for a few minutes to play host. Catarina smiles around the edge of her champagne glass. “I don’t think I’ve seen Magnus like this in _decades_.”

Alec almost snorts out his own sip. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m serious,” Catarina presses, turning around slightly to stare at Magnus as he greets newcomers at the entrance of his apartment. Alec takes a moment to study the warlock, looking _positively lovely_ in his formal wear, and feels the need to loosen his collar before he chokes to death. “I haven’t seen him smile this much is a long time, Alec.”

“Catarina, we’re not together—" he tries to say—tries to explain—because this is getting out of hand. If Magnus’s closest friends are assuming now, people he’s known and loved for centuries, then there must be something _wrong_.

Alec has not made as big of an impact in Magnus’s life to matter as much as Catarina claims, not like Magnus has made with his, being the first person that he can firmly say he’s in love with. But from the way Catarina narrows her eyes, smile knowing, there’s something in that expression that reminds him that she’s become _his_ friend too, and that she sees beyond definitions and technicalities.

“Not yet,” she says, like that’s all that matters. Like it’s that easy.

But Alec has been waiting for nearly a year. In the ten months they’ve known each other, aside from the beginning, Magnus has never hinted at anything more because the fact of the matter is that Alec lost his chance for it a long time ago.

“It’s not that simple,” Alec reluctantly confesses, the words slipping out before he can fully process them. “I wish it was, but—”

“—But it really is,” Catarina insists. She switches her glass to her other hand, taps his temple with her finger, and levels his gaze with her own. “You make him so happy, Alec, and from what I can see, he makes you happy too. What more do you need?”

Before Alec can come up with a coherent answer, Magnus slips back into the corner they’re currently huddled in to join them. “Am I missing anything important?” he asks with a wink and a drink.

The sight makes Alec laugh because that’s he can do. Catarina is on the dot when she says that Magnus makes him happy—he’s one of the few things in this world that can do it without trying, just by being himself. Magnus makes him feel light and airy, makes joy bubble in his chest and his heart try to break free from his ribcage.

He makes Alec _feel_ things—things he never thought he’d ever have or even allowed himself to dream of.

“Nothing important,” Catarina tells Magnus as she slings an arm around her fellow warlock, still staring at Alec. “We’re just talking about Alec’s plans for the future.”

“What plans?” Magnus cocks his head. “Anything in particular? I don’t think you mentioned anything recently.”

“Oh no, just the usual. The plans for the Cabinet and stuff.” He clears his throat, can’t even swallow around the lump of emotions that grows in his throat, and he feels everything inside him _ache_ to touch Magnus.

The takeaway is this: hope won them the war, so what’s to say it can’t do more if he lets it?

*

It’s the whisper that sounds the loudest between them on that quiet night, lying in bed like always.

“I love you.” The words leave Alec stunned, the way they slip out without warning or reason, like water dripping from a tap that’s been closed off. They settle in his chest as something heavy, and it’s a struggle to learn how to breathe around them. Nothing could have prepared him for it.

Across from him, sitting back against a nest of pillows on the bed, Magnus simply stares, mouth wide open in surprise. “I’m sorry?” he asks, like he still can’t quite understand what he heard.

Alec is having a hard time believing it too. He didn’t plan to say that—certainly didn’t mean to—but he was thinking it… had been for quite some time actually. He’s been stuck on Maia who assumed because it seemed perfectly natural, on Jace who heard and wasn’t surprised, on Izzy who just wanted him to be happy, and Catarina who saw it because it was always there. 

The moment had struck before he’d even had a chance to realize it: the world so warm in their own little bubble, Magnus’s hand in his as they lounge on his bed, wine-drunk on the cold December night. Something about the gentle chaos had settled the building scream that brew in Alec’s chest every time he looked at the warlock, catching sight of lips quirked into an easy smile, dark eyes that sparkled with mirth, and the way his whole body would shake when he laughed.

There’s almost something ethereal about Magnus, something that’s made Alec want to fall in love despite all the hardships that will come from it, because heaven surely crafted this miracle and sent it to him.

“I’m in love with you,” Alec tells Magnus helplessly, shrugging like it’s no big deal, but his hand clenches just a bit tighter around his empty wine glass. It’s so much easier to say the second time around, and Alec can surely see himself getting used to it.

Magnus is silent for a moment, a handful of heartbeats that threaten to suffocate them both, but then he’s leaning forward, a smile stretching wide across his face, and the pink dusting his cheeks is not from the alcohol. “Took you long enough.”

Alec laughs because how can he not?

“Even though I’m sure you know, I love you too,” Magnus makes a point to say over the rim of his wine glass, lips painted a rosy red from the drink. The words echo in the space between them, ringing through his head like the sweetest song he’s ever heard, and it only makes Alec surge forward.

His arms loop around the warlock’s neck and then he’s pulling him _down down down,_ until their lips meet in a bitter, wine-stained kiss, which leaves them both breathlessly blissful and gasping with muted laughter into each other’s mouths. He lifts a hand and strokes the side of Magnus’s jawline, cupping his chin to pull him close. Magnus’s own hands bury themselves in Alec’s hair, curling but not quite pulling, lost in the sensation of finally being together.

The air around them grows hot and heavy as Magnus’s magic flares around them, dancing in shades of blue and gold, but neither spare a moment to watch. It’d taken them so long to get to this point that neither wish to wait another moment to lose themselves in the other.

Here’s the facts: Alec Lightwood is a Shadowhunter, and Magnus Bane is a warlock. If you want to be official about it, Alec is the Head of the New York Institute, and Magnus is the High Warlock of Brooklyn. In a nut shell, it means they should be enemies, doomed from the start, and haunted by generations-long hostilities.

The takeaway is this: a relationship between them will never work out.

But here’s the facts: Alec Lightwood has been in love with Magnus for nearly a year. For all purposes, it’s been a relatively happy and healthy relationship they’ve fostered, as colleagues and friends, as almosts and maybes and possibilities. At the end of the day, matters of the heart simply require time and the mind to balance the best of both.

The takeaway is this: they’re in love, and that’s the only important thing to take away.

Perhaps that’s why it works.

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing Malec so this was quite a joy to attempt. I can only play in the fandom for so long on the sidelines before I eventually have to try.


End file.
